Enchanted
by zunaira ghazal
Summary: Sasuke, Sakura and their happy ever after. Or something. Drabble 5: "I'm the home you can always return to." Post Canon.
1. Treasure

**Summary**: that time Uchiha Sasuke unwittingly drank toilet water.

**-a-**

It happened one sunny afternoon when Sakura was at the hospital and Sasuke was looking after Sarada. She was a mere three year old toddler, a princess in her own right, the sparkle of her Papa's eye, the pride and joy of the new Uchiha clan. Smitten that he was, Sasuke never had the heart to deny his little baby girl anything. So, on this fine day, when Sarada waddled to him with a flowery, pink tea-cup filled to the brim with water and presented it to him with that beaming smile on her face, he grudgingly said good-bye to his dignity, plucked the tiny contraption from her hands and played tea-party with his daughter. She would serve him imaginary biscuits and when he had drained his cup, would go out of the room and return again with a 'fresh cup of tea.'

The look that she gave him radiated sunlit sincerity, and in his heart, Sasuke positively _basked _in the warmth of that smile.

And that was how Sakura found them, Sarada serving him tea and imaginary biscuits in the livingroom while he played the part of delightfully obliged guest. At first she just started at him, then she stared at the cup, and then at Sarada. Then she leaned against the door, crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a grin that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Did it ever occur to you, Sasuke-kun," she bgan sweetly, "that the only place she can reach to actually get water is the toilet?"

It took him a moment to comprehend that and then his face slackened in dismay. He looked at his little angel and suddenly, her smile didn't seem so innocent anymore. He gulped. "Uh…" he began.

Sakura shook her head in amusement and crouched down to sarada. "Honey, will you bring Papa another cup of tea?"

Sarada beamed her approval and ran out of the room. Sakura motioned for him to follow and sure enough, they found her scooping out water from the toilet. Sasuke groaned and rubbed a palm on his face.

As Sakura scooped up their daughter in her arms, she gave him a cheeky smile, "Don't you dare kiss me with that mouth for a week."

He could only frown in assent.

**-a-**

_fin_


	2. Valkyrie

**Summary:** In which Papa is a prince and Sarada is a self-proclaimed feminist.

**-a-**

Every other night, the Uchiha family would gather in their living room and revel in each others presence; for they were a tight-knit little group, and on occasion, inseparable. It was on one of these nights in the Uchiha household; where Uchiha Sarada lay her head in her Mama's lap while she simultaneously read a scroll and ran her fingers through Sarada's hair while Papa rest his head in the crook of Mama's neck, drowsing peacefully. Honestly, she smirked, it was a wonder Mama suffered through his childish antics. For at the tender age of eight, Sarada had decided she was somewhat of a feminist; men were insufferable fools and women were going to rule the world one day. She especially despised the degrading concept of 'damsel in distress.'

She would be, she thought perhaps a tad haughtily, a knight in shining sequins. Preferably pink ones. She decided that night, that her parents should know about her future aspirations.

"Mama."

Both her parents looked at her. "I don't like boys."

Papa blinked, looking slightly panicked and Mama sighed, patting him on the cheek a little condescendingly. "Bolt, again, honey?" she asked.

Sarada turned in her lap and took Mama's hand from her hair. "Not really. I just think they're all pests."

When she looked up, she noticed that Papa looked slightly crushed. So she frowned, got up and made herself comfortable on Mama's lap. She took Papa's hand and twined her fingers with him. "It's just," she started, not quite knowing how to describe how she felt.

Mama gave her an encouraging peck on the cheek. Feeling slightly better, she tried again. "I feel like men hold us back!" she exclaimed. And then all those words spilled right out of her. "It's like they expect us to do everything! And then they disrespect us—not you Papa." She added when he opened his mouth to retort. "On top of that, they're stupid and disgusting and-" here she thought about all those freaks at the academy, and frowned very hard, "-they _think_ they're better than us—not you Papa." Because, she thought, her Papa was the rare exception.

"Sarada…"

Then, because she was curious, she asked, "Mama? How did you find someone like Papa?"

Her parents exchanged a look. "Oh, baby." Mama hugged her tight. "Someday, you'll find your prince too."

Papa scoffed majestically. Sarada frowned her dissent. Mama smiled and wound one arm around Papa's neck and kissed him on the cheek. Papa let her. "Did you know, Sarada? Mine took a wrong turn, got lost and was too stubborn to ask for directions."

Papa rolled his eyes and kissed the back of Sarada's hand, still twined with his.

Sarada huffed her disapproval and gave Papa a hard look. "Did you give Mama a hard time, Prince Papa?"

Papa neatly averted his eyes, turned back to Mama and bowed his head in a small nod, as if in gratitude and murmured, "I'm very grateful that she forgave me."

Sarada nodded in approval while Mama beamed at Papa radiantly.

"Anyway," she said and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, "I'll be just as awesome as you, Mama, _without_ any prince."

**-a-**

_fin_


	3. Vogue

**summary: **because, uchiha sakura loved picking on her husband.  
>-<p>

"Did you know, Sarada-chan?" She said one day while sitting at the dining table, "Once upon a time your Papa was just a pasty little snot nosed whiner."

Sasuke sighed wearily. He knew Sakura was vengeful and petty and prone to being a smart ass when it was her day for doing the dishes.

Sarada looked at her mother curiously.

"Did you know, once he flashed his Sharingan at Uncle Lee and he kicked him_right_ in the face! It was epic!"

It disturbed him a little, how happy it made her to humiliate him. "I seem to recall, you were right there, cheering me on with bright shiny eyes."

She sniffed. "I'm always cheering you on with bright shiny eyes." She paused. "Except that time when you started wearing the purple ass ribbon." She gave him a pointed look.

He took a deep, tired breath and she smirked at him. "Tell me Sasuke-kun, was that a fashion statement or a mating call?"

He gave her a nod of acknowledgement . He knew he deserved all the shit she dished out sometimes. Sarada giggled. "I'd like to have seen Papa in that outfit."

"Oh honey." She smiled and finally got up to gather the dishes. "It was hardly a sight for sore eyes."

Sasuke shook his head, amused, and braced himself for more humiliation but relaxed as she dropped a kiss in his hair, and one on his nose for good measure before walking to the sink.

"Fear me," she said casually. "For I know every humiliating moment of your life. You too, Sarada-chan. _Especially_, you."

Both father and daughter gave each other exasperated looks, love in their eyes for this frustrating woman.


	4. Kickback

**Summary: **in which sakura shamelessly blackmails.

**-a-**

Sarada loved snuggling up to her mother; after a particularly grueling day, she would walk in her mama's arms and bask in the comforting warmth of her embrace. In turn, Sakura loved holding her daughter close; her heart would swell and her body would radiate love. She would hold Sarada tighter and pretend that all the love she felt was being soaked into the tiny body in her arms. One such night found the Uchiha's in the master suite; Sasuke leaned against the headboard, his eyes skimming a particularly interesting scroll while Sakura's head rested on his lap; Sarada sleeping placidly in her arms.

It was peaceful. Sasuke's body was relaxed in a way it only did on rare occasions and he was reveling in the serenity when, "Sasuke-kun?"

"Hm?" he intoned, barely breaking his concentration.

"Will you be a darling and make me a cup of tea?" Sakura mumbled against Sarada's hair.

"No." he said casually and opened the scroll a little farther, fascinated. His single minded preoccupation broke when Sakura's hand reached out from under and took his own. She twined her fingers in his and draped his arm over her shoulder. Then she kissed his knuckles. He knew in that instant that she was about to skewer him to shreds. He was, essentially, correct.

"Remember that time you knocked me out and left me on a cold, hard bench? And that time you tried to kill me? Oh, and that time you tried to kill me again?" she cradled Sarada in one arm and half turned in his lap. She fluttered her lashes and grinned.

Sasuke's stomach dropped. He never liked talking about that time in his life. And there was always a twinge in his chest when she tried to make light of all the hurt he'd caused. He averted his eyes and tried to pry his hand away from her. She only held it tighter. There was a moment of tense silence—and for her, because she was now a part of him—the corner of his lip twitched into a ghost of a smile. "…you tried to kill me, too."

She laughed then, and kissed the back of his hand. "Only because you were…uh, a little…hm, touched in the head at the time?"

"Don't be annoying." He picked up the scroll with his other hand.

"Hmm, what was it you said? My revenge is everything, as long as I exact it I don't care what happens to anyone else."

There was a smile in her words, voice lowered in baritone to better mimic his and Sasuke felt his face heating up in mortification. Somewhere along the way, Sakura had become a master at guilt tripping him in submission. It was a gift, really.

"Your powers of persuasion are evil." He intoned, resigned, and made to get up to deliver that accursed tea.

"Say, you still want to start that revolution?" she laughed.

His face about combusted from latent humiliation, as he hurried out of the room.

_Fin_


	5. Home

**summary:** i'm the home you can always return to.

**x**

Sakura, by nature was an affectionate person. Most of the time she used gestures to get her emotions across. She was a firm believer that touching a person to get your point across was not only bolstering but for someone like Sasuke, especially, it had become a tool for her to reassure him of not only her presence but also her love and her devotion.

Sasuke, on the other hand was silent, taciturn and unintentionally blunt and constrained. He believed that words were cheap and actions spoke louder than words. But for Sakura, words weren't cheap either. Naruto had taught her that; never go back on your word, that's your ninja way. It had become more of a vogue, really. And with Sasuke, both words and actions were instruments—a way for Sakura to make the world around him a little bit more habitable, a little bit more familiar and just a tiny bit more, _homier_.

So whenever he would come back, she would chatter him to oblivion—and he would listen diligently, with the patience of perhaps, Sakura would think, a saint maybe. She would find excuses to touch him in the most subtle of ways; passing the dishes, a careless flick of the hand and sometimes he would give her a smile so small yet so genuine it would always get her heart racing and her chest would swell with so much love and nostalgic longing that tears would prick the corners of her eyes and she would have to blink them away.

But in the darkness of the night, he was the one who would slip quietly in bed and wind his arms around her, settle her snugly against him and slip a leg between her thighs. She would sigh in contentment and fist his shirt in her palms. He would dip his head and kiss her on the throat; right between her clavicle and chin and his head would stay there for several heartbeats, his breath fanning the crook of her shoulder and she would relish in the feel of _him._

Achingly slow, he would move his lips and her breath would start to hitch. Every time his tongue would flick out, a shiver would wrack her body in pleasure and every time he would nip, she would bury a moan in his hair.

His hands would always slip under her shirt and he would lazily,seductively trace his thumbs in circles on the curve of her hips. His face would remain buried in the curve of her neck for hours and she would revel in his warmth; for this was the only way Sasuke ever knew to express himself—quietly, reservedly, with passion so constrained she would know he was inhibiting himself on purpose. Sasuke; a boy, who'd lost his love to tragedy too many times.

He would never take it any further; only hold her tighter and kiss her on the forehead. His lips would remain there and Sakura would burrow deeper into his chest. It was a ritual; it was their thing. And while being held in his arms, there was always a little voice in the back of her mind, nagging her, telling her to hold on tighter, or something would take him away again.

But one night, she decided swallow past the momentary anxiety, because if he was brave enough to take such a leap of faith with her, then why should she hold back. _My love_, she thought with determination, _would never bind him. It would be a safe haven. A home_.

"Sasuke-kun," she sighed, her hands fisting more tightly in his shirt. "You know, right?"

He breathed deeply and pressed his lips to her forehead in a silent, _What?_

She fell silent for a moment, and then, "That you're everything…"

She lifted her face and looked him in his mismatched eyes. "That your life is not just yours anymore? That you're half of me, too."

He blinked his bewilderment and she smiled and settled more snugly against him. "But that doesn't mean that you're not free. That I'm holding you back. It just means that I'm the home you can always return to."

There were a few moments of silence where she felt his heart beat a little faster under her palm, and then his arms tightened around her.

"Thank you," he murmured in her hair. "Sakura."

_fin _


End file.
